


Training the Heart

by mag_nifique



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Dragons (Harry Potter), F/M, Fluff, Gen, Minor Canonical Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:32:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_nifique/pseuds/mag_nifique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to Aunt Amelia’s dying wish, Susan is in training to become a dragon keeper. But it would be a lot easier to focus on the dragons if Charlie Weasley would stop distracting her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> A story inspired from my one-shot, The Challenge.

_September 20, 1998_

Susan Bones sat on the healer’s examining table, scorched boots seemingly permanently attached to her feet, and glared at Charlie Weasley.

This was his fault – and Aunt Amelia’s too, but not as directly. And, to be far, Susan had made the choice to enter Dragon Keeper training versus some other occupation that would help the rebuilding of the magical world after the war, but that was only because it had been the best fit. She’d had excellent marks in both Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts and both were important prerequisites.

Charlie’s tall and slightly stocky frame leaned against the doorframe as he grinned back. The man was too happy and good-natured for his own damn good; he distinctly reminded her of a few first year Hufflepuffs she didn’t miss from her last year at Hogwarts. They were cheery little imps, always skipping and being a general nuisance to the population.

And the _singing_. She would die a happy woman if she didn’t have to hear that stupid muggle song that had something to do with little blue creatures _ever_ again.

“So, was this anything like what you expected?” Charlie asked and she grimaced.

“To be honest? It wasn’t what I hoped for, but I did expect something like this. Just not to almost be burned alive the first day,” she muttered and he responded by rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be silly, you were never in danger of dying. Ol’ Bertha’s harmless, which is why we use her for the new recruits,” he said and Susan could only blink rapidly at him.

_Harmless?_ _That bloody thing is hardly harmless!_

She meant to give him a strongly worded view on his opinion of the dragon’s ‘harmlessness’ but what came out was, “You named the bloody dragon _Bertha?_ ” She had an unfortunate habit of doing that; meaning to say one thing but a completely different thought coming out.

“Of course! Fenwick named her sister Agatha, and I couldn’t possibly let that scoundrel out-do me, could I?”

Susan tried, and failed, to pretend this had any resemblance whatsoever to a normal conversation between two _normal_ people.

Thankfully, before she was expected to give an answer, the healer strode into the room.

When they had met earlier in the day, Madame Hiddleston had reminded Susan quite a bit of Madame Pomfrey. She was short and round, with a stern mother air about her. The nurse’s cap on her head covered dark brown hair that was only lightly speckled with grey, but her face was cratered in a way that reminded Susan of the moon. She hadn’t broken a smile once since they’d met, but Susan liked her. She wasn’t mean, but she was somber and very, very serious about her job. Which, Susan supposed was a very good thing as the people she took care of worked with some of the most dangerous creatures known to wizard-kind.

“Hello again, Miss Bones. I can’t say I’m pleased to see you again so soon, but we can be thankful that it isn’t under worse circumstances. Oh, and Mr. Weasley, I can’t say I’m surprised to see you here,” she said as she began to examine Susan’s feet.

Charlie grinned and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Hello, Hiddles, my love. You look quite fetching today in that cap.”

Susan wouldn’t swear to it, but she almost sure that she’d heard Madame Hiddleston mutter something about, ‘no good, flirtatious dragon keeper cretins.’ She would have to remember that one.

“Go flirt with the trainees, they might look past your complete and utter lack of sincerity,” Madame Hiddleston said and Susan shook with the contained laughter. Charlie looked undeterred though.

“Oh, come now Hiddles, it’s just us, and Bones, but she doesn’t matter. It’s a safe place, you don’t have to pretend!” Madam Hiddleston had just stuck a tongue depressor in Susan’s mouth for reasons unknown, and Charlie’s second emphatic declaration nearly had her choking on it.

Madame Hiddleston glared at him and it was almost scarier than the dragon.  _Bertha_.

“If you don’t behave yourself, I’m going to have to kick you out, Weasley, mentor or not,” she warned, wagging a finger at him. Charlie grinned like a little boy who’d just stolen a biscuit right out from his mum’s nose.

“Behave yourself? Who, me? Why, I am an _angel_ , Madame Hiddleston. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head one bit about little ol’ me.”

Susan wasn’t the only one that coughed to cover up a laugh that time.

“Well, Miss Bones, it looks like we’re going to have to cut these boots off you. Sorry about that, but try running faster next time,” she suggested as she pointed her wand at the boots.

Susan pursed her lips. What fantastic advice, run _faster_ when trying to escape a dragon so that it doesn’t ruin your new boots. How on Earth did she not think of that before?

Soon enough the boots were in pieces and Susan was walking out of the sickroom in borrowed slippers that she had strict instructions to return once she’d retrieved a pair of her own shoes.

Before she went to her room though, Charlie decided it would be an excellent idea to drag her to dinner.

 

Susan took one sip of the tea and nearly spit it across the table and all over Charlie. She swallowed the sour concoction and patted her lips with her napkin before gingerly sliding the cup and saucer away.

“That is the most disgusting tea I have ever had the misfortune of drinking. Merlin’s beard, Charlie, why did you let me drink it?! I thought my mentor was supposed to help me _avoid_ these kinds of problems.” No one could see it, but Susan was angrily tapping her foot beneath the table. It made her feel better.

“Because I wanted to see that exact expression on your face. Besides, I don’t drink tea. It’s disgusting, no matter what the kind and where it’s from.” He grimaced and Susan gasped.

“You take that back right now!”

He shook his head and crossed his arms and he looked about five, rather than twenty eight. “No.”

“Well, that is just rubbish of you. Tea is lovely, especially on a chilly winter afternoon. And iced tea is good for summer. And you’re British! Drinking tea is in your blood, how can you even _live_ with yourself?” Susan felt thoroughly scandalized by this development.

“Too bloody bad, tea is disgusting and neither you nor my mum can convince me otherwise,” he said and wagged a finger in her direction.

And that was when Susan decided to adopt two causes:

1\. She was going to make Charlie Weasley like and drink tea if it killed her.

2\. She was also going to find whoever made the awful tea and threaten them with a rusty spoon until they made it better.

Because Susan just couldn’t _stand_ not drinking tea.


	2. Ickle Dragon Spawn

_September 25, 1998_

 

Someone was trying to wake Susan up and they would fail miserably if she had any say in it. Which she did, and therefore endeavored to hug her pillow and blankets even more tightly to her. The blankets were, regrettably, gone within a minute and that was when a voice began to puncture her consciousness, but still, she held on to the pillow for dear life.

“Susan,” a man crooned and gently shook her by the shoulders. Susan smiled, she liked the voice, but she was sleepy and didn’t want to wake up so she ignored it. The voice quickly got more insistent. “Susan, get the hell up before I drag your arse out of bed.”

And then the voice tried to fight her for the pillow. Eyes firmly shut, Susan fought the incessant tugging, but alas, soon enough she lost her grip and let go and then heard a loud crash as someone or something fell into something. Instantly her eyes were open and she was springing out of her bed. And then she skidded to a stop in front of Charlie, who was currently supporting a lampshade as a hat, sitting in the debris of what once had been her desk and chair. It closely resembled kindling now though.

“That’s a dashing hat, Charlie, but why the hell are you in my room at,” she glanced at the clock hanging to her left. “Two in the _morning_.” At first she’d wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he looked with her lampshade on his head, there was nothing funny about being awoken at two in the morning after an obscenely long and hard day of training had ended only a few hours before.

Instead of a normal, human response, Charlie groaned, ripped the lampshade off, and rubbed the back of his head.

“Shit, this bloody hurts. D’ya happen to have any ice in here?”

“Come here, you idiot, and sit. I’ll see what I can find.” Susan sighed and helped Charlie over to the bed. She was no healer, but it looked like he’d hit his head pretty hard. The best thing to do would be to take him to the resident healer, but she had a suspicion that if she tried, Charlie would walk out without any medical treatment whatsoever – an assuredly bad idea.

Susan rummaged around in her small ice chest until she found some actual ice, and, wrapping it in a rag so that it wouldn’t hurt his skin, she brought it over and pressed it to where he pointed. She sat down next to him, holding the ice to his head with one hand, the other in her lap, and didn’t say anything. Charlie looked like he was still in too much pain to do much of anything but wince every so often, which wasn’t conducive for a good conversation.

After a few minutes though, he gently pushed the icepack away and stood, swaying a bit.

“We need to go, right now,” he said, his voice only quavering a little. Susan copied him, but was firm on her feet. She reached out and touched his arm to try and steady him, only for a moment, but he still gave her a look that had her heart thumping before she shook it off.

“Why? Where do we need to go? You need to sit back down and put this ice back on your head,” Susan said, trying for a stern expression and folding her arms across her chest. He was her patient and she wouldn’t have him passing out and hurting himself even more while on her watch. “And again, why the hell are you in my room in the first place? It’s strange behavior, even for a Weasley.”

Charlie grinned, though it was more subdued than usual. “How do you feel about babies, Bones?”

 

And that was how, ten minutes later, Susan found herself in a scorching hot stable-like building, kneeling in a large straw stall staring at three large eggs that were roughly the size of the golden replica used as a clue in the Triwizard Tournament, waiting for them to hatch. These eggs were, of course, not a shiny gold, but duller and a mottled brown color that she assumed was a natural camouflage and defense mechanism for in the wild.

“Why are they here, and not with their mother?” she asked quietly a few minutes after they arrived.

“She was killed by another, stronger dragon in a turf war of sorts, from what we gather. We managed to rescue the eggs before irreversible damage had been done. Without their mum to keep them at a constant temperature of 94 degrees Celsius during the first few months, dragons don’t develop properly and then don’t hatch and death is inevitable. By the time they’re ready to hatch, they’re fine at lower temperatures, but it’s still better to keep it relatively warm and the higher the temperature, the easier it is for them to get out.”

Susan glanced over at Charlie, who was staring at the eggs with the oddest expression on his face. And the way he spoke about them… it was obvious what his passion was.

“That would explain the heat,” she said and he chuckled.

“Yeah, we like to keep our babies as comfortable as possible here.” There it was again, in his voice. He _cared_ about them. Susan couldn’t wrap her head around the why. They were little spawn that would grow up to be monsters. It was a terrifying thought. It begged the question of _why_ she was doing this again – she still couldn’t answer it for herself.

“So, why did you bring me here? This obviously isn’t something all the trainees get to see,” she said, gesturing to the empty area around them, no one was there, probably because they were safe and snug in their cozy beds. She was supremely jealous.

Charlie smiled and ruffled her hair on the top. “Because you, Bones, aren’t just any trainee. You’re _my_ trainee and, seeing as I’m the head of the Eggs and Hatchlings Department, it’s important for you to tag along for these sorts of things.” That explained it. No one had mentioned what department he specifically worked for when she’d been notified of who her mentor was, mostly because she’d gathered that their titles didn’t matter, as they all worked everywhere at least some of the time. It made sense for Charlie to be with the ickle dragon spawn though, he seemed captivated by them.

“Oh goody. How long do you think it’ll be before they start hatching?” she asked and he shrugged.

“It all depends. It could be an hour or so, or it could happen within the next five minutes. Before you ask, I don’t know for sure how long it will last either. We try not to help them out unless absolutely necessary. It’s more natural that way, and later it will make it easier to release them back into the wild.”

Susan nodded, that seemed logical, though hard to do if you were someone like Charlie who she thought would have a hard time watching something he seemed to love so much struggle to get out and escape to relative freedom.

It was twenty more minutes until the first crack and from that point forward, time was meaningless. Charlie had grabbed her hand when they’d seen the egg tooth of the first baby poke its way out of the egg, and he was still holding it tightly when they third’s was just starting to appear.

The first baby was the quickest by far. He seemed to use a mixture of brute force and repetitive hacking to break the shell apart and into smithereens. Susan quickly decided he had to be a boy; no female would have any of that nonsense.  It took him five minutes to appear, covered in embryonic fluid and already strutting around as if he owned the place. Within a few minutes though, he’d settled a bit and was licking the fluids off his body in a way that uncannily resembled Susan’s cat, Thaddeus.

It was about the time the second baby decided to make its grand entrance and begin poking its way delicately through the shell. It took her longer, but the second baby was out of the shell within ten minutes. She immediately went to cleaning herself, each delicate swipe of the tongue ridding her body of more slime. Susan poked Charlie and whispered, “That one is _definitely_ female.” He chuckled and shushed her when the third baby’s egg tooth appeared.

That baby was a mixture of the two; he still used brute strength, but for some reason it took longer. When he rolled out of the nest area, Susan immediately saw why. Crumpled in a way that made her feel sick, was his left wing and forearm. His brother had used his entire body to break out, and this third little dragon’s inability to do that explained the time difference. He hopped around until he was out of the others way and began to lick himself in a corner of the stall. It broke Susan’s heart, not even five minutes old and he was already alone in the world.

Charlie let go of her hand and she heard him suck in a deep breath. She almost missed the feel of his hand, but pushed away the feeling. It was just in the moment, the excitement of new life. He stood, brushing the straw off his knees and carefully walked over to the crippled one. The oldest hissed when Charlie walked by, but he ignored him. Susan sat back on her heels and watched him work. It was fascinating.

Gently, so as not to scare it, he kneeled down and scooped it up in his arm. It mewed pitifully and strained to get away, flapping its one good wing. Despite the nasty looking talon at the outer tip of the wing’s membrane, Charlie didn’t waver at all as he stood and walked past Susan, opened the stall door, shut it, and then kept walking. She wanted to call after him, ask him what she should do, but at the same time she was afraid of disturbing the babies. As she sat there in the clean straw, watching the babies first clean themselves, then start to explore, a grudging admiration for them began to grow.

She still didn’t like them, but there were things they did that niggled at her until she broke down and admitted that fine, they could be pretty bloody cute when they wanted to be. By the time Charlie got back, she’d dubbed the female Minerva after Professor McGonagall, (she was _very_ bossy) and her older brother Brutus. Within the first five minutes of Charlie’s absence, he’d strutted over to Minerva and smacked her in the head with her wing. She hadn’t taken too kindly to that and when he’d turned, she’d bitten him in the tall. They were still embroiled in some serious rough and tumble play fighting.

Susan didn’t realize Charlie was there until she heard his deep chuckle from the doorway. She glanced over her shoulder and he motioned for her to come out. She nodded, stood, brushed the straw from her pants, and carefully walked out.

“I can hardly believe them, aren’t they fascinating?” she said when they were a few paces away.

Charlie grinned. “I know, I can’t help but love the things. What are their names?” he asked suddenly and Susan started.

“How did you…” she trailed off and he grinned.

“I left you in there with them for over a half hour – there was no way you _couldn’t_ name them. Now, come on, I’ll tell you their brother’s name,” he wheedled and she frowned but sighed after a minute, knowing when to give in.

“The oldest boy is Brutus and the girl is Minerva,” she mumbled and Charlie laughed again.

“I should owl McGonagall and tell her that she finally has a dragon namesake. She’ll be tickled pink, I’m sure,” he chortled and Susan grimaced.

“Oh hush, now what’s the little one’s name?”

Charlie stopped laughing, but still grinned. “I’ve decided to name him Bones, after you. Since you’ll be taking care of him from now on. Good luck with that, by the way. Let me know if you need any help.” He whistled as he walked away, leaving Susan standing in the middle of the hallway, gaping at his back.

_I’m going to kill him, ruddy Hufflepuff or not._


	3. Baby Bones

_October 1, 1998_

 

Charlie had failed to mention, when he’d told Susan what her official first assignment was, that Bones was a particularly unpleasant sort of dragon – the Hebridean Black. To be dealing with what _Bertha_ must have been at one point in time was a bitter sort of irony, and one Susan was sure had not been lost on Charlie. Who had been suspiciously absent from her life since that night, or morning.

Presently, Susan was trying, and failing, to get Bones to eat his breakfast of raw fish guts. It was disgusting, she hadn’t been able to find her gloves, he kept throwing it up in worse form than it had gone down, and to make matters worse a fellow trainee, Verity Chase, was watching the whole debacle with amusement in her eyes. Because, Susan had quickly found out, Verity Chase was a _legend_ in the Dragon Training world, having come from a long line of them, and therefore, she knew _everything_ about _anything_ having to do with dragons.

Susan had particularly un-Hufflepuff thoughts about her on a regular basis.

Finally, as if she’d had enough entertainment for the morning, Susan heard Verity stepped forward.

“Here, let me help,” she said. “My da has taught me a trick or two when dealing with uncooperative baby dragons.”

And there it was, the infamous, ‘My da has…’ If she said it once more, Susan was likely to go mad. Still, she gave up the bucket of fish guts because Bones was about to drive her mad as well. He had an overly intelligent gleam in his deep amethyst eyes, one that made her uneasy. It was almost as though he knew how to and _liked_ to push her buttons.

Within seconds, he was eating happily from Verity’s hand and Susan was about to pull her hair out.

“Hello ladies. Oh, Susan, why aren’t you feeding Bones? As the keeper assigned to him, you should be doing that, though Verity that’s nice of you to help out. I would say five points from Hufflepuff, but we aren’t at Hogwarts!” Charlie said all this as he strode into the room, ruffled Susan’s hair, and transferred the bucket from Verity to Susan who grumbled intelligible things that may or may not have had to do with the way Verity looked at Charlie as if he was a god.

He wasn’t a god, he was a Weasley. There were some major differences between the two: primarily the red hair and freckles.

Once again Susan tried, and failed, to get Bones to keep any of the food down. It had been like this every day in different ways since he’d been born. One day he wouldn’t let her examine his wing without scarring her hands and lower arms, the next he would be as calm as a kitten until she tried to clean his scales. And it went on, and on, and the only thing that kept her going every day and from quitting was that she wasn’t a quitter, she never had been, and she wasn’t about to start being one. She would make Aunt Amelia proud even if it drove her mad.

A minute later, completely drained and fed up, Susan set the bucket on the counter, (where Bones immediately began to eat voraciously from it) and turned to give Charlie a piece of her mind… only to see that she was alone. She gave a frustrated half scream and turned back to see Bones attempting to set the bucket on fire.

_Bloody hell, what have I gotten myself into?_

 

_October 4, 1998_

 

At dinner, Susan was staring at her soup, eyes not focusing on anything, wishing more than anything she could take back that promise.

_“Susan,” her aunt grasped her hand and held it tight. Susan’s breath hitched, something was wrong – very, very wrong._

_“Yes Aunt Amelia?”_

_“I need you to promise me something.”_

_“Anything.”_

“Hey Bones,” Charlie said in his cheerful, Charlie way as he sat down across from her. She had been hoping he wouldn’t sit by her. Even without knowing it though, he always seemed to do the exact thing she _didn’t_ want him to do.

“Hello Weasley,” she replied dully and he looked shocked.

“What? No cutting remark or edgy comeback? What on Earth has gotten into you, Susan?”

She sighed and didn’t reply. She was about to fall asleep in her soup because of the whiny baby dragon he’d thrust upon her. The thing wouldn’t leave her alone, knowing they had a baby monitor system hooked up to her room. It’s as if he _planned_ to screech and jabber in baby dragon language when he knew she was just about to fall asleep, or as she was in the midst of a good dream, or even not a good dream, just a good sleep!

“Come on Susan, what’s wrong?” Charlie coaxed and she finally looked up and glared at him.

“You want to know what’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s bloody wrong! _Bones_ ,” she hissed and he was wise enough not to laugh, though he did smile a bit.

"I see you're discovering the beauty of the baby dragon and its needs."

Susan grimaced. "I don't know if I would exactly use the word  _beauty_ to describe what I've been going through. Bones was a lot cuter when he couldn't do anything." She sighed. "But really, I'm worn out. I think I'll try to get some sleep before he inevitably wakes me up at one in the morning to pretend he wants to eat." She pushed away from the table and her barely-touched soup but before she could go far, Charlie grabbed her arm.

"You know, if you need my help, you only have to ask," he said quietly, looking at her seriously for what seemed like the first time.

She half-smiled. "Thanks Weasley, I'll keep that in mind this morning."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't wake me up too early Bones, I need my beauty sleep after all."

"You sure do," she called over her shoulder. "The more beauty sleep for you the better, I say." Susan heard him roar with laughter behind her and couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. So maybe Charlie wasn't all bad, but he was still a hell of a lot of fun to tease.


End file.
